


Ain't No Sunshine

by CloudSpeck



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Jaskier | Dandelion, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Arguing, Biting, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Could Be Canon, Emotional Hurt, Feelings Realization, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Hurts So Good, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Making Up, Mutual Pining, My First Fanfic, Not Beta Read, Pining, Rhyming, Rimming, Rough Sex, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Tags Are Hard, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudSpeck/pseuds/CloudSpeck
Summary: Post s1/ep06A depressed and dejected Jaskier writes the saddest love song after being sent away. Yennefer roundabout predicts Geralt returning to him. An argument, an explanation, pain, and emotion. Jaskier has trouble forgiving. Geralt hides his feelings and Jaskier feels too much. They come together in the end, a little more understanding of each other and a lot happier with each other.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 367
Collections: Start Reading





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the ballad for this. I'm sure it could be infinitely better than it is. This is my first fanfic in like...a decade. Not beta-read. Warning: Excessive italics and excessive ellipses. :)
> 
> I might change the rating if I decide to add the smut I originally wanted to write. 
> 
> Song title as fanfic title. It's a lovely song.
> 
> Please do not repost it and please leave a comment.

_Look into those eyes, a fiery intent  
But oh how that face holds naught but discontent  
I know you feel naught but annoyance with me  
And oh how I wish I could set this love free_

_Your hair is spun from the brightest stars  
Your strength it carries you so very far  
I stare at you and you smell of heartbreak  
Or murkiest waters of saddest lakes_

_For you, a prison cell my love stays locked  
And I cannot show myself I fear to be mocked  
Your emotions held captive but not as mine are  
Kept deep inside or held some place far_

_Please love rescue me  
If you will not, please let me flee  
My love for you grows like a tree  
This love of mine, it holds no glee  
Please love rescue me_

_I watch as your hand gives out a caress  
I feel a descent into loneliness  
My destiny locked with your path  
I wish not to leave, no matter your wrath_

_Please love rescue me  
If you will not, please let me flee  
My love for you has grown like a tree  
And oh how I wish, I could set my love free_

Jaskier finished the ballad to the near silence of the tavern he was in. There weren't many townsfolk there to begin with, so it was a good time to play that song without getting pelted by bread and vegetables. Where did they always manage to find vegetables to throw, anyway? He plastered on his most charming smile and nodded at the patrons before rolling into a jaunty and loud tune as his last song. He gave a bow, the small bells on his blue doublet making noise as he did.

Finished with his nearly lackluster performance, Jaskier found a table to sit at with his stew and ale. He lay his head down over his arm and let out a huff. A sound to his left, like a clearing throat, caused him to lift his head back up. He was intent on telling whatever lass that planned to talk to him that he was, in fact, not interested. The words died before ever making it to his mouth when violet eyes stared at him.

"That is...quite a sad song," Yennefer spoke in a tone belying an uncomfortable knowing. "I haven't heard it before." Without invitation the mage sat down opposite him.

It's not a question and Jaskier stared at her for a moment, shocked to be seeing her here. He assumed she was probably there because of some lord or another. He frowned before taking a deep breath and giving a short reply. "New, for a muse of mine."

"I was under the impression that our dear friend Geralt was your only muse?" Her eyes bore into him with a sincere pity. "I noticed you did not specify a gender."

Jaskier visibly tensed at the witcher's name, before he could make himself appear blank. " _Artistic license_. Anyone can relate to it now."

The mage's lips thinned. "Fiery eyes. Hair spun from stars. Discontented face and captive emotions." Her look was shrewd, skewering Jaskier and leaving him to feel broken open.

"Coincidence," he bites defensively.

"Coincidence," Yennefer replied sarcastically.

They watched each other a few more moments before she stood to leave the tavern they'd both found themselves in.

Jaskier bit his lip and turned to call after her. "I don't know how to stop what I feel," he all but shouted. Yenn looked back at him with ever more pity. He hated that look, but he refused to feel much beyond some suffering at the look from the witcher's lover. "I'm not sorry for feeling it, and I won't apologize for it. I can't help it."

"Heartbreak is cruel. Destiny is crueler."

He frowned, still confused to even be seeing her. Jaskier watched her go, mind rolling Yenn's last reply around for near an hour afterwards. As night fell, the bard left the tavern for his room. It was quiet on his way down the road and he let himself wander again. Destiny was cruel? She was a vindictive and cold woman indeed.

The bard's feet carried him to the right building and his eyes lifted to the doorknob of the inn. Hand reaching out to turn it, he was abruptly pulled out of his mind and actions at the whinny of a familiar horse. Jaskier jerked, removed his hand, and looked through the window in the door. His eyes landed, with trepidation, on the man that currently argued with the innkeeper. Blood running cold, Jaskier chewed at his lips. His hands shook and he wondered briefly if he should simply flee to another inn, but then his belongings would be left behind.

The choice was taken from him when the man's fiery, golden eyes turned to stare directly at him, his nose twitching like he was scenting the air. Jaskier stumbled quickly back. Belongings be damned. He could not _deal_ with this. He'd been told to leave _and he had_. He couldn't show back up in Geralt's life, even by accident. He'd been told to leave the witcher. He couldn't show back up. That would most definitely lead to a heart so broken that only death could save him. He couldn't show back up in the witcher's life to annoy him more. Destiny was so fucking cruel.

The door slammed open and Jaskier startled. He turned, intent on moving as far away from the witcher as he could get. The look on Geralt's face was a mixture of emotions and Jaskier froze, feet stuck where he was. That was the most expression that the bard had ever seen from him and he didn't understand any of it. For several seconds, though it could have been minutes or even hours, they simply stared each other down. Not wanting it to last longer, a noise left the bards throat and his legs slowly seemed to unlock. His heartbeat was dancing the fastest beat he'd ever felt and his mouth felt dry.

"G-Geralt." One word. The witcher continued to look at him, his face melding into that same discontented one that Jaskier had always thought beautifully tragic. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be here. I just came to get my things. I have places to be you know. The coast is calling. A beauty this time of year. I'll be out of your way soon. I won't get in your way again. I thought I'd gone far enough away. Sorry." The poor singer rambled and shifted back and forth on his feet. The coast was a lie and a terrible one at that, but he didn't care. Geralt stood between him and the door and he was not about to try moving past him.

The witcher made a 'hmm' sound and cocked his head to the side. Melitele, he was beautiful, even when he looked so unapproachable.

"And if I asked you to stay..."

The words registered, but it took Jaskiers' brain a moment to truly understand. A moment too long by Geralt's standard it seemed.

"The silence has been quite deafening this past year." A surely imagined request for forgiveness was wove into the words.

These were some of the most words that the stoic man had ever said to him and the bard felt dizzy with indignation at it. Was Geralt really implying what he thought he was. Jaskiers teeth ground together, shaking hands turning into fists. His shock at running into the witcher was slowly turning into a flash of anger.

"Silent." He stared at the witcher, teeth continuing to grind. "You send me away with insults aplenty and when we see each other again all you can complain about is the silence?" His voice slowly rose with each word. "Dear witcher," the words were said with such a sarcastic bitterness that Geralt actually looked somewhat startled after. "I thought you liked the silence." 

He sucked in a quick breath before his voice took on a gruff imitation of the witchers'. 

"'Jaskier, can't you shut up'."

"'Quiet Jaskier'."

"'Do you ever stop talking, bard?'"

"'Fillingless pie.'" 

His eyes started tearing up and he wiped at them furiously. 

"'I need no one.'" He spit out.

"'If life could give me one blessing," A pause and a trembling breath. "It would be to take you off my hands." Jaskier growled that last imitation, venom in his voice and more tears in his eyes.

He looked down and mumbled more to himself than the man across from him. "I was only ever kind to you. I asked for so little. I don't understand why Destiny is so cruel." Cornflower eyes rolled in sudden exasperation. "Fucking damn it. She meant this. A warning would have been better. _Of course not with Yenn._ Unhelpful. I gave everything. _Everything._ All of me. I didn't deserve this. _Everything._ Fuck Destiny. Fuck this."

Geralt scuffed a boot against the street bringing Jaskier back from where he'd trailed off. He looked almost like he was remorseful and Jaskiers jaw clicked shut before more could spill out. The witcher cleared his throat.

"...I hear a new song of yours every few towns lately," Geralt spoke in a gravelly tone. "It was-." Jaskier's whole being froze, his face becoming a near inferno of red embarrassment. The song, Melitele the song. Geralt frowned at his actions. "Was it about someone particular?" He looked...disappointed.

Jaskier frowned back. "I have few muses for songs these days. Even less for ones of tragedy," He tried and failed to sound casual. "What does it matter to you anyway, _oh White Wolf of Rivia_?"

Geralt tensed. He looked ready to say something biting, instead his face scrunched like he'd eaten overly sour lemons. "I only wanted to make sure you were doing okay...It sounded...It was heartbreak." Jaskier stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Geralt was so dense. 

"It was written for someone I travelled with for a while," he deadpanned. Geralt's brow furrowed as though he was trying to puzzle that out. Jaskier brought his own fingers to his forehead to rub the sudden exhaustive headache that appeared. How could he fall for someone with the deduction skills of a rock? The bard waited for Geralt to realize, but it didn't come. Jaskier sighed loudly. His anger slowly giving way to the tiredness he was starting to feel. The bard shook his head minutely. "Don't worry about it, Geralt."

Geralt huffed, sounding a lot like Roach to Jaskier's ears. "But-," A pause, like he was trying to choose the best words, or untangle his thoughts. "Who could you have travelled with to leave you feeling…" Geralt shook his head this time. "Your Countess?" It seemed a logical conclusion to the witcher. Jaskier had never shut up about her. Jaskier's frown became darker.

" _My Countess_." he snapped in indignation. "Are you pretending not to understand, or is your brain truly a brick wall?" The bard asked, voice disappointed.

"Speak plainly," was a rumbled reply from the other man. A quick examination of Jaskier's expression and flashing eyes caused him to add a less gruff 'Please' to the end.

The bard folded his arms in front of him, before flailing them out to the sides in frustration. " _You._ You, you gods-be-damned fool. Starlight hair. Fiery eyes. The song is about you." The hands came down to his sides in fists again. "You said witcher's don't feel and that was fine, until it wasn't actually true and and you were feeling for others, for Yennefer. It's easy to ignore what I feel when there's no chance, but you feel. _You feel_. Probably too much under that stone exterior...But none of it's for _me_. It's _never_ been for me. I can't...I just...Why? I am not the one shoveling your shit. I've always been there, always helping you how I could. Always trying to heal your spirits, your reputation, your wounds, your pain. Not for any reason, but because I wanted to...You wouldn't even call me friend!" A moment of quiet, then a near inaudible, bitter end to his ranting. "...You wouldn't even call me friend."

The witcher looked as if he'd been told that the world was going to implode. Jaskier's breath came in short, quick huffs. The bard closed his eyes, fingers flexing at his side as he tried to calm himself down. Geralt watched him, face and posture tense. Jaskier shook his head, trying to clear it, Geralt needed to hear, needed to understand what the consequence of his actions were. 

"I wandered with no purpose for months, Geralt. _Months._ I could barely think. Every time I sat for too long, you were there...are still there, yelling in my head. _I could not sleep_. I can hardly stand to, even now. Food tastes like ash and ale does nothing. I couldn't sing for anyone...so many towns to be run out of. I only just started again this past month...I tried to lay with someone just to _feel_ something." He laughed coldly and Geralt went very still. "All I could see was you. I couldn't even make myself want the other person for just that night." He hunched in on himself and waited for whatever Geralt might say to that.

There was an extreme guilt on his face. The witcher breathed slowly in and out before looking off to the side. "My feelings are hard to express," he said evenly. Jaskier snorted, ready to reply. Geralt cut him off before he could. "My feelings are hard to express. I'm...sorry...I never called you a friend." Jaskier went to interrupt him again and Geralt held up his hand. "I should not have taken my anger out on you. I took advantage of you always being near." The witcher sighed like the words were hard to pull out. "...It is easy to love Yennefer, because our lives are long and there is so much that's common between us." 

Jaskier's expression was stormy. "I don't need to hear about your l-." He was cut off again.

"It's easy, but not a very real love, I think. She's important, but we came together under a false connection." He frowned so deeply that his eyebrows drew together. "I made the wish and bound her to me...to save her. Foolish _and_ selfish. She is an admirably vicious woman meant only for freedom...and I chained her down to my path with no consent." Geralt's shoulders slumped. It was a strange look on him. The bard stared at the witcher with confusion plain to read in his eyes.

"You though...You are...different." Geralt sighed and a gloved hand raised to rub at his forehead in his own bout of frustration. "I took you for granted. Your feelings for granted." Jaskier's eyes widened. "You're human. A short life. An intense life. A songbird that should be free...and you bound yourself to me of your own choice? It's hard to understand you...It's hard to accept that you act the way you do out of nothing but goodness. You have so little time to make your dreams come true...barely any. Why would you continue to travel with me?" A pause that Jaskier didn't try to fill, confused but content to listen now.

The witcher took a minute to put his thoughts in better order. "Witchers are not meant to have friends. We aren't supposed to feel...but after you left…" He stopped abruptly and sucked in an audible breath. "After I ordered you to leave me," he corrected and shook his head. "I'm used to silence and I'm used to loneliness, but the silence was deafening and the loneliness was so much worse than I'd ever felt. The guilt was crushing." He looked back at Jaskier. "You are important to me. You have been important to me for a long time, but as you said, I am dense. A brick wall. I didn't understand...or even try to."

Jaskier was silent. The words slowly trickled through him. _You are important._ Did that mean Geralt saw him as a friend finally? Could he hope it meant more? He needed a clearer answer before his hopes jumped too high.

The bard cleared his throat and Geralt waited in silence for him to speak. "I am...important to you…" Geralt nodded his head, unsteady and waiting for more yelling. "Important like a friend," the bard let out a soft breath, "or important like Yennefer?"

Geralt made a noise in the back of his throat. Why was it so hard to explain himself to the bard? "I searched for you. I looked for months after I came down the mountain." Jaskier's brows raised high. That wasn't quite what he wanted as an answer, but it was surprising nonetheless. Geralt grunted in aggravation, voice speeding up and coming out in an angry rant. "I kept expecting you to show back up. To just appear like you always did after I yelled. I would hear your voice and I'd turn to answer you. You wouldn't be there. Not in any tavern. Never in any inn. I'd go to sleep...and I'd miss your complaining. I'd miss the sound of you playing the lute." Jaskier gawked at this. His lute? Geralt hated his music. Why would he possibly miss something he ha-Oh. _Oh._

"I _am_ important like Yennefer." It wasn't a question and Jaskier stepped closer. Geralt nodded stiffly, hands tensing like he wanted to reach out. "I am human. A flame that will one day burn out. A blink of an eye in your long life." Another stiff, resigned looking nod. "...You want me _free_ , but you want me _with_ you even more," Jaskier said in a quieter, softly hopeful voice. A slower, stiffer nod from Geralt was his answer. Jaskier stepped even closer to the witcher. He still felt a swirl of emotion, but all he could think right now was that it sounded like Geralt _LOVED_ him.

He stepped right into Geralt's personal space, rubbing one arm self consciously. "I love you, Geralt. I know this. I also know that I will soon forgive you for pushing me away, now that we've talked…" Jaskier raised his arm, wanting to touch. His fingers curled and he dropped the arm before he reached the witcher's shoulder. "I feel too, too much right now, but if it's okay with you...I would very much like to travel on your path again. My life on your path is the greatest adventure." Geralt stood stock still before one hand raised to brush Jaskier's cheek.The smile that appeared would hardly be noticeable to anyone else, but it shone brighter than the sun to Jaskier's eyes. The bard slowly raised his own hand to hold over the one the witcher held to his face. His cheek pressed and nuzzled into the hand. It was warm even through the glove.

He ran his own hand gently over the witchers and let out a puff of breath. As emotion fueled a being as Jaskier was, he was ready to change the subject for now. Maybe one day Geralt would be able to break himself open more to give him the three words he wanted and Jaskier would be so ready to hear it then. For now, _'You are important to me'_ and an apology was good enough. Great even. His hand moved to Geralt's shoulder and the witcher looked like he wanted to say something more.

Jaskier shook his head gently and gave a tentative smile. "I noticed you were fighting with the innkeep. I assume over rooms." Geralt grunted as an answer. It seemed he'd run out of words for now. "Would you like to share my room? It only has one bed, but I have enough coin to get you a bath. You need it. You smell vaguely of kikimora guts…and drenched werewolf?… Have you been taking care of your hair at all? And your poor armour. I'm sure Roach is even faring better. Melitele, the state of you." One hand brushed across the buckles of the witcher's armour. The other ran fingers through his hair. Geralt's mouth twitched at the corner. Relief danced behind his gold eyes to hear Jaskier complaining and happy again. Jaskier smiled brightly back at him before grabbing his hand and moving to walk them both through the inn door. 

Destiny might not be so cruel after all.


	2. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First attempt at smut in a long, long time. Hope it reads well. Ni beta again...bound to have mistakes. 
> 
> Jaskier is a very vocal, very commanding bottom when he wants something specific.
> 
> Does this smut even flow?
> 
> Song title used: Closer by NiN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Only! That's all.

The first thing Geralt noticed about Jaskiers' room is that it was small. There was a double-sized bed...disappointing in look. Beyond that here was hardly space for the tub brought in or the one rickety chair in the corner. It _was_ warm and dry though, much better than the cold starting to creep outside.Even better, it _smelled_ like the bard. Like the many oils he owned, the orange and vanilla that seemed near always present around him. Geralt loved it.

Jaskier watched the witcher take it in, before shutting the door behind himself with an audible click. He turned the key to lock it, because Geralt liked the security and Jaskier liked the privacy. The witcher made a humming sound when hearing it. He turned to look at the bard and Jaskier could feel a flush starting to burn up his neck and along his cheeks. The smell of cinnamon and clove seemed to blanket him and Geralt pulled the scent in through his nose. A half-smile quirked at his lips. The witcher made to speak then.

The bard cleared the back of his throat, interrupting what Geralt might say, a self conscious hand rubbed at the back of his neck. "... _Sooo_...I offered you a bath." He rocked back on his feet and sidestepped quickly around the man. Geralt's shoulders sagged at the somewhat dismissal. He understood Jaskier's nervousness and why he ignored his arousal. He would not admit it, but the witcher felt nervous too. This was uneasy ground for them, especially after the timid forgiveness just moments before.

Geralt watched the bard pull his shampoos and oils out, before starting to undress at the look sent his wsy. The witcher stepped into the tub and hunched forward to start scrubbing at himself. Jaskier set his things at the side and trying not to make a big deal of it, opened the chamomile oil. He took up a cloth and started to rub at Geralt's back. The monotony, the callback to their old routine, leading him to relax. 

The witcher stayed his usual quiet, his insides squirmed though. It should be him washing Jaskier this time. He loves the bard. He wanted to show the bard with that...but what if Jaskier didn't want that? Even with the smell of him to guide the witcher, he still wasn't sure what Jaskier was completely feeling. He'd said his forgiveness might take time, but in that same breath he'd said it would be soon? This felt like forgiveness _and_ avoidance of feelings.

Jaskier finished massaging the oils in through the witchers' hair, watching as his eyes closed or opened, uncertainty playing in them. He frowned and opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "Do you not like it? You used to complain about this. I could stop if it makes you uncomfortable. I'd understand," and Jaskier would understand, be disappointed, but he would. Geralt snorted with false humor. The bard frowned deeper at that and removed his hands, setting them awkwardly on the edge of the tub.

Geralt didn't turn around, but he did answer him. "I loved, _love_ this…" He rasped quietly. "I just feel," he grunted and paused a minute. Something near unease flowed into his tone. "I feel.. _I want_...to do this for you." He could feel Jaskier's expression turn into a gape. "You want to bathe me?" It was incredulous. Geralt had never once offered that before. Jaskier worried at his lip and fidgeted his fingers. Geralt never would have offered that. "There's a lot I want to do." The witcher grumbled. "Could I?"

Jaskier felt his own body still before nodding. His cheeks flushed scarlet. "I...Yes. Yes you can." Geralt started to stand, moving to get out of the tub. Before he could, Jaskier's arm shot out, pushing him back down. "Stay." The witcher made a questioning noise, but Jaskier ignored it in favor of removing his own clothes and grabbing the vanilla oil. He quickly stepped in the tub, back to Geralt's front. "You want me like this?" Geralt swallowed his answer (there was no way Jaskier meant it suggestively) and took the oil in silence. 

Geralt was gentle with his movements. Slow and methodical. The bard sank a little lower into the water, arms unconsciously pressing down on the witcher's thighs. Geralt withheld the noise that wanted to bubble up and was grateful for it when a noise came from Jaskier instead. It was soft, but there, and the smell of clove returned with a vengeance. Geralt took a deep inhale and moved his hands to run through Jaskiers damp hair, ignoring what he was starting to feel. His fingers snagged and Jaskier lurched. A louder noise, a moan left him. Jaskier and Geralt both tensed up, his arousal making an obvious appearance then. The bard seemed to settle once more and the witcher pulled his hair again. It was more intentional this time and the bard moaned louder, fingers dug into thighs and a whooshing breath was sucked in. 

"G-geralt...if you keep doing that…" His words were breathy. Geralt leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. "Could I?" The witcher placed another kiss and Jaskier went through a full body shudder. He stood quickly, stepped from the tub, and pulled at Geralt's shoulder. Geralt was confused for a second, thinking he might have crossed a line. When the pulling became more insistent, Geralt stood. Jaskier worried his bottom lip nervously, hand still holding firmly onto Geralt. The witcher stood entranced, watching that lip become puffy with the movement. His length,which had grown hard, jumped at how Jaskier looked. 

Jaskier continued to worry at his lip, thinking over what he'd like to do. When his mind finally settled, he grabbed the man harder and pulled him swiftly toward the uncomfortable bed. Jaskier turned to take Geralt in and grabbed both the witchers' hands, moving them to grab firmly onto the bard's hips. The witcher watched this curiously, fingers flexing. 

"Witcher, pay very close attention right now." He took a breath for confidence "You are going to fuck me. You are going to fuck me _hard_. Through this mattress." Geralt's pulse picked up the barest amount. His next words were whispered into Geralt's ear then, the bard on tiptoe. "Fast." Breathy."Hard." A soft tug to his earlobe. "Rough." A quiet moan, like Jaskier was imagining how it would feel. "I want only to think of you, nothing else. You, are going to fuck me until all I will feel tomorrow is you." Jaskier paused, putting his desires forward was difficult." I want to feel claimed by a White Wolf...and you better not be able to think of any doubts on how rough you are during this or after. No guilty conscience. None." 

Geralt sucked in a noisy breath and grasped harder at the bard's hips. Who knew Jaskier was so commanding and dirty in bed? Actually, he sounded exactly how he'd fantasized it before. Geralt spared a moment for his guilt, before a slim, insistent hand was tapping his face. "Ab-so-lutely none, Witcher." He nodded sharply and pushed Jaskier back to the bed, one hand steady on his hips, the other coming to rest by his head. Jaskier's grin was feral when he looked up at him. 

He wiggled his body minutely when Geralt wouldn't move. "Well, get on with it, Witcher. I'll die of old age at this rate." Geralt let out a growl and pulled Jaskiers arms up roughly, clasping his wrists together under one large hand. The bard smiled, hips moving to grind against his, before Geralt pressed them back down forcefully."Don't move." Geralt's voice was commanding. Jaskier moaned louder. The witcher leant down like he was going to kiss him, but veered to his neck at the last minute. 

He breathed in Jaskier's scent and teeth scraped over the pulsepoint there, a soft bite followed. "Rough, Geralt." Jaskier's voice had gone raspy and chiding. Geralt moved to a lower spot and bit hard enough to leave imprints. The bard's hips jolted again and his fingers curled up, a whimper passed his lips. Geralt wanted more of his noises. "Just like that. Claim me Geralt, please. Use me up." Geralt ran his stubbled cheek down the line of Jaskier's throat and collarbone, across the bite he'd just left, and leant back a second to see how purple the bruise was already becoming. How _nice_ the beard burn looked. He turned to the other side of him and started to trail harsh nips and firm kisses down his throat. 

Geralt's hand that held Jaskier's hip came up to thumb and pinch at a nipple and the bard's legs unconsciously moved to circle the witcher. Geralt shook his head and pulled his legs back down. His own legs moved so that his knees held him firmly apart and trapped. "You said rough. I'm going to be rough." He bit at a collarbone. "I'm going to make you sing until you're too wrecked to perform for an audience tomorrow. Might just keep you in bed all day. Think the innkeep will be bothered by how loud you are?" Well, it appeared Geralt could be talkative too. Jaskier whimpered out a broken please and the witcher leant back in, teeth to one dark nipple. Jaskier felt like he was burning up with lust, quivering in steady building need. 

Geralt bit and teased them both into points before going back to his collarbone to bite a path down. He wanted Jaskier covered all over in him.One hand reached out to the bedside and grabbed an oil from the bath. He let go of the bard's hands and nodded for Jaskier to hold the sheet. A finger was coated in the oil and slowly trailed down the hair under Jaskier's belly button. Geralt's tongue moved to suck and lick at the dip there, sucking a bruise just under it. He scooted back and the finger was slowly pushed in, crooking up as it went. Jaskier panted in a noisy breath, legs shaking and pulse rabbit quick. The witcher moved further back, sank forward and pulled one leg over his shoulder. He bit at the meat of Jaskier's inner thigh, finger continuing to move. Jaskier could feel his mind starting to blank already. "Please, please, Geralt." 

He ignored the begging and sucked a trail up to Jaskier's hole. It seemed to flutter around the one finger and Geralt's only thought that he desperately needed a taste. His tongue circled the smaller man's rim around his finger, not stopping the digits movements. The bard tasted musky and like the vanilla of his bath. Jaskier's whole body tightened up and he whimpered brokenly. Geralt could feel the sheet tighten under Jaskier's fingers and his hole clench up around his finger. His lips sucked and his tongue continued to lick as Jaskier calmed back down. He pointed his tongue and wriggled it in next to the finger. Geralt added another finger and scissored the two around his tongue. He could feel saliva on his chin and how Jaskier was opening to him. A third finger was added and Jaskier yelped, body contracting and pushing against them all. "There, fuck, right there Geralt. Fuck, fuck." Geralt removed his tongue and looked up at Jaskier. He was hot, sweaty, and biting his lip nearly to the point of breaking skin. "Another one, songbird? I bet you could cum just from this." Geralt smirked, teasing in his tone. Jaskier huffed back. The huff quickly turned into a wild keening when Geralt added his pinkie and started to stretch them all out, pressing fast then slow, over and over. His thumb caught on Jaskier's rim like he was thinking of adding it too. 

"You fucking bastard. Don't tease. Geralt, please. Hell." Geralt chuckled and bit at his other thigh, then his hip, until they bloomed with angry marks. When he thought that Jaskier was thoroughly stretched and teased, he pulled both the bard's legs up to his chest and pressed them down. Jaskier looked beautiful like this. Open and wanting. "Get on with it, you fucking whoreson. Give me it, Witcher. Give me your cock. I want it. Quit stalling, you fucker." Geralt's member twitched at the words and the oil that Geralt dripped down it. He pushed into him then without pause. Jaskier tensed and cried loudly. A momentary pause. Was Jaskier okay? He looked okay. But maybe he wasn't? A reprimanding bite to the closest piece of him made the witcher nudge further in. "Get out of your head and FUCK me." Geralt nodded, pulled back until just the head was left, then thrust in again hard. The bard _had_ asked for rough. He was going to get all of what the witcher had to give. 

Geralt thrust back in swiftly, one hand going to hold at Jaskier's throat which caused the man's breath to hitch. The other arm moved to hold his waist, pulling him into each thrust. Harder. Faster. Deeper. Jaskier was starting to babble words like 'so good' and 'perfect' and 'please' which lit fire in Geralt's veins. Geralt's hand put a little more pressure to his throat and the bard could feel his eyes glazing, vision going dark at the corners. The witcher watched his length move in and out of Jaskier before pulling out completely, hands yanking at Jaskier's hips. The bard whined pitifully, Geralt growled loudly. The hands on his hips flipped him roughly over and pressed his chest down into the bed. Jaskiers arms moved to grasp at something, anything. He felt empty. 

"You want to be claimed? Imagine the White Wolf fucking you like a bitch in heat? I have." Geralt snapped his hips, cock pushing back into the bard. Jaskier moaned, body taut under the witcher, hands scrabbling for some kind of purchase. Gedalt grabbed them both and held them to his back, pressing down hard. His other hand came to pull at Jaskiers' hair. "I imagined fucking you like a whore. Just a hole to fill." Jaskier let out a reverent sounding 'fuck'. Geralt slammed into him continuously then, hard enough to bruise the bard's behind. The hand in his hair tugged him back harshly, nearly ripping it. Jaskier was moaning, wanton like the whore Geralt had once fantasized him to be. Geralt spared a thought to the fact that the innkeep and other patrons could probably hear everything. The thought made him let out his own rough groan. "Imagine...Imagine looking the innkeeper in the eye tomorrow." Jaskier whimpered, he could feel saliva slipping from his mouth to the bed. "He'll know exactly how wrecked you were. By a witcher. Think his wife would be jealous of your pleasure?" A loud moan that grew louder when Geralt's hand gripped at his hips again and pulled him back into the witcher's brutal thrusts. 

"Ple-," Jaskier couldn't even get out the words he wanted to say. His lungs were too tight, body thrumming with too much energy, mind overwhelmed. The bed under them slammed into the wall, leaving small cracks behind. Geralt lifted him to rest against his chest, like he was nothing but a rag doll. At the moment that's what Jaskier felt like, head lolling against Geralt's shoulder, only the man's arm to hold him steady. "Unn...Ple-ease." The witcher moved his other hand to grasp Jaskier's forgotten length and Jaskier jolted forward. A moan ripped from him and Geralt gripped tighter. "This? Want me to pull you off?" His voice sounded like sandpaper and was starting to stutter. "I think you can cum without that." His hand moved off Jaskier's cock to hold at the other side of his neck with some force. Jaskier might have actually started to cry, overwhelmed. Geralt sucked hard under his ear, then at his neck, moving the bard's face to kiss him filthy, more teeth and tongue than actual lips. 

Geralt tilted his hips and thrust. The bard shouted, body convulsing and insides spasming. Geralt did it again and again, Jaskiers fingers were digging into him, cutting half moons into his skin. One more and Jaskier whimpered pathetically, his whole body going stiff and teeth piercing his lip. Cum spilled from his cock in ropes, coating the bed. At the first feel of Jaskier's body locking and pulsing around him, Geralt started to cum too, filling the bard. His teeth dug into the space between neck and collarbone, clamping down hard enough to taste blood, a loud groan muffled behind it. Jaskier slumped in Geralt's arms, body starting to cool from the perspiration. He wanted to say something, but all he could do was pull in quick, shallow breaths. Everything hurt pleasantly. A shaky hand lifted to touch Geralt's cheek. 

Geralt felt his own body unlock and his arm released some of its pressure around Jaskier's middle, his mouth turned to kiss and nuzzle the bards palm for a while, letting both their bodies return to a more normal state. Jaskier looked so good when he was fucked out and Geralt felt himself twitch in renewing interest. The card whimpered though, less in pleasure now. He was oversensitive and could feel everything. Geralt slowly lowered him back to the bed and gently pulled himself from Jaskier's pliant form. Another whimper and Jaskier grasped at the sheet. Geralt leaned over to grab the towel, forgotten earlier. He placed his hand on Jaskiers lower back, a finger moving down to watch his seed slide out of the bard. He pressed in, just to feel how loose he'd made him. After rubbing gently, he took the towel and ran it slowly along the mess left behind. Jaskier cleared his dry throat, scratchy from overuse. "'Mere." Geralt looked up to see the side of Jaskier's face, one hand motioning him forward shakily. "'Mere, G'ral." 

Geralt leant down, resting himself next to Jaskier. When the bard didn't move, he pulled him on top of his chest. Jaskier made a contented noise and Geralt's fingers slowly pet through his hair. A thought from before came to his head. "I also imagined taking you gentle. Making you shiver with need while I.. made love...to all of you." Jaskier's head tilted, eyes landing on Geralt's chin and lips. The idea of that caused his body to heat in a blush. He was so blissed out right now. Fingers brushed along Geralt's chin gently, like a whisper. "'M gonna feel you for at least a week after this." There was quiet amusement behind the scratchiness of his voice. "Thank you, Geralt." His fingers brushed down the witcher's chest and came to rest next to his head. "Also, I think I've completely forgiven you. Now cuddle me up. We're taking a nap and then you're going to rub some healing salve across my lovely bottom." Geralt chuckled and held him tighter, a hand reached out for the blanket and he tossed it half-hazard over them both. He was so worn out that he couldn't even bring himself to worry about things between them. He was forgiven. They were together again. This was perfect just now. "You're getting dinner when we wake up. Now stop thinking, I'm trying to sleep." Geralt smiled and relaxed into the bed. He could feel Jaskier smile up at him as they both nodded off. 

____ 

Jaskier shifted as he woke up, everything on him was sore. The warm body underneath him moved and Geralt made a snuffling noise before his own eyes opened. He looked down at Jaskier and the look that met him was half amused/half indignant. Geralt cocked a brow and Jaskier huffed. "Geralt. Do you see this kaleidoscope of bruises on me?" His neck twinged and he raised a hand to touch at the large bite there. It was true, he did rather look like he'd fought with a large animal and lost. His body more purple and blue than its usual pale. "Do you dislike it? You did tell me…" Geralt trailed off, suddenly feeling unsure. Jaskier lifted his head and rolled his eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his chin. "You dolt, I didn't say I dislike them. The world gets to know I'm claimed. I have you back and I have proof. I told you, no doubting or overthinking." Geralt slowly warmed back up and pressed a kiss to Jaskier's forehead. Good. "You owe me food." The witcher actually chuckled at that. "I do." He made to get up and Jaskier shook his head. "Wait." The bard leaned in and pressed a deep, slow kiss to his mouth. "Okay, now go." 


End file.
